Missouri
Shivering, I wrap my arms around my buttoned up, blue trench coat and scoop neck blue and white striped t shirt that's over jeans. It's slightly warmer than last weekend, but still fifty five degrees outside.
Besides that, I have no idea how I'm supposed to dress, so I just went with this.
Looking up to the top of the valleyish ditch, I scan for signs of either of our wizard accompanists to Diagon Alley.
Earlier in the week, after I'd shown my mom the letter and she told me both her and my dad are wizards, she agreed to let Grace, our wizard helpers, and I go to Diagon Alley together. We'd sent an owl to Hogwarts as to where Grace and I would be waiting (the ditchish valley by Grace's house, where no one would see us leave) then waited until the time came to get into position and now we wait for them to show up.
"Hey, you're the girls, right?" A boy with short brown hair races down the hill towards us. "I'm Cedric Diggory, a third year. It's nice to meet you two. In fact, I almost couldn't believe I'd been assigned the possible baby from the Disappearance." He gives a big sparkly smile and shakes our hands then stands beside me.
I'm about to ask him what this Disappearance thing is because I remember Grace mentioning it when he starts chattering again.
"Oh look, here comes your wizard!" He gestures to the spot where a figure is running down the slope in the direction of Grace's house.
"Hey guys, I'm Oliver Wood. Ready? And were you trying to dress like a Ravenclaw, cause everyone knows Gryffindor is the best," he asks.
Unable to remember what the two are, I take my handbook Grace made out of my pocket and scan the table of contents for where I would find out what it meant.
"Oh, it was just a joke, you don't have to-"  I hold up one finger close to Oliver's face, cutting him off.
If you're going to be near me, you have to know not to interrupt me when I'm reading.
Finding what I'm looking for despite Cedric's smirks and chuckles, I snap the packet closed and stick it back where it was originally.
"No, I wasn't tying to. Besides, your view on Gryffindor, presumably your house, is but an opinion, not a fact. Sorry, but it wasn't my kind of joke. You can try again later, maybe I'll be better oriented then so that I can laugh," I tell him, prompting Cedric to crack in half with silent laughter and Grace to give me a bit of a disbelieving look mixed with a panting sort of laugh.
"What did I do? Oops, wait, that's not normal for magically gifted, is it," I blush.
Recovering, Cedric stands tall, "Nope, but I'm glad you're the one I get to help. Now come on, we won't get anything done standing here all day." He sets off at a brisk pace, up toward Grace's house, where her mom will apparate (I think that's what it's called) us to Diagon Alley.
               **********************
Diagon Alley entrance
"I hate to break it to you, but that's just a brick wall. As in a dead end," I say, glancing at Oliver who's barely said a word to me since I shot down his attempt to humor me back in the grassy crater.
"With all these questions, you most certainly MUST have been trying to dress like a Ravenclaw!" He looks at me in the corner of his peripheral vision, judging my reaction.
Smiling, I reply, "Maybe, maybe not. I have been called a Ravenclaw by this one before, so who knows, I guess we'll see if she's right," I elbow Grace in the side.
Catching a grin that rivals Cedric's, he begins to explain.
"By tapping the right brick, they all recede to let us into Diagon Alley." He takes out his wand, counts up from a trash can three bricks, then two sideways, touching the tip of his wand on that one.
"You might want to back up in order to see the entire transformation." I oblige willingly, hopping backwards a few feet.
Suddenly, the brick he tapped grates inward, like a conductor signaling the rest of the orchestra to follow his lead.
And they do. Tens of hundreds of bricks slide to the left and the right, creating a doorway to possibility.
"No amount of electricity and special effects could make this more magical," I breathe in awe.
Magnificent brick buildings tower over worn cobblestone streets, flanked by display cases for each shop's finest and the welcoming hues and shades of beckoning signs.
"How does one start?" Yanking my northernly magnetized eyes away from the southernly magnetized landscape of wonder, I look at Oliver and Cedric for guidance.
Chuckling, Cedric answers for Oliver, who's gone still while staring at the smile on my face.
"We'll have to go to Gringotts bank for your wizarding money first, so you can actually buy things."
Gringotts
After a few minutes of strolling the streets, we come upon a level after level after level eventually domed building that's exterior matches that of what one would expect an elegant dragon's hide to look like: a regal grayish white.
A puff of sweat inducing heat is released from an unknown source as we edge our way inside.
Walking over to a...what appears to be... I think it's a goblin.
I stumble a bit with my mouth hanging open some, alerting Cedric's laughter.
Walking over to a goblin Oliver clears his throat and announces, "Miss Alanna Blue would like to make a withdrawal."
"Does she have her key by any chance," the goblin inquires.
Key? Key. Keeeeey? Keeeey...
Oh! Yeah!
Fumbling over myself, I struggle to bring out the keys and talk.
"Here! Here! I have, the uh, keys! I have the keys here! They came in the letter! They were in my letter for some reason!" I finally present the keys, which he (or I at least guess this goblin was a he) inspects and is satisfied with.
"Griphook! Griphook, take them to vault 689!" Another goblin tottles towards us, leading us to a cart like contraption complete with various gears.
But the minute everyone is secured inside, we fly off at dizzying speeds.
We pass vault after vault after vault enclosed with glittering treasures.
Just before the vomit gates break, the cart abruptly stops. As I sway out of our transportation, I'm barely able to make out the numbers 689 as my mind calms down.
What I find behind the gates drowns my ability to think worse than the ride here did.
The room is covered with Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons, coming up about halfway to my knee. I'm still not completely familiarized with the currency, but I can tell it's a lot. Though some others still probably have more than my vault, I can't help but be amazed at the dust covered piles of metal pieces.
Cedric whistles as I scoop handfuls of the stuff into my little purse.
Turning around, I see a look of bewilderment on the other wizards' faces that must mirror mine.
I shrug my shoulders and start walking back towards the cart, but my mind is racing in the highest mode.
How could there be so much?
Why did Hogwarts have my key instead of my family?
Does this have anything to do with the weird look Oliver gave me earlier? Or the Disappearance?
                ********************
The natural light that is only as worse as it is now, when the sun is climbing that mountain to the top, blinds us as we emerge from the elegantly weathered, crooked structure.
"Now what?" I look questioningly at Oliver after doing a sweep of the crowd's direction, which is no absolute help.
"Your robes will probably take the longest, and we'll need to pick them up before we leave, so let's head there," he replies, choosing a street and galloping off.
Madam Malkin's
Panting, we end up in front of a delightful plum colored building that is busy showing off displays in a beckoning manner, which includes a sign declaring the place Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.
Taking a pause for us to catch our breath, Oliver flings open the door and Cedric makes a grand flourishing gesture.
Stepping over the threshold, a short, plump lady outfitted in the exterior color of her store, gray hair piled on her head, rushes over as she finishes with a different customer.
"What do you need? I'm sure we have your sizes," she inquires, smiling a friendly grin.
"Uhm...," I stammer, not the best with people and most assuredly taken aback.
"Come, we'll get you fitted over here, never the matter." She gestured for us to strip of our coats, gloves, any extra layers, then to hop up onto a little black cylinder.
Walking past a clearly out of place boy, with black hair that's as rumpled as his clothes, I see his expression turn appalled as he listens to this slicked back, polished blonde boy who points out the largest man of a person I've ever seen, then proceeds to make quite the rude remark. I'm about to intervene , give the little weasel what he deserves, when Madam Malkin comes back to herd Grace and I farther into the room.
Leaping up, I crane my head for a view of the boys' quarrel, but there are too many obstacles; including Madam Malkin, who, despite my attempts, always pushes my head back into place, claiming I'm throwing off her measurements.
At last she sticks in the very last pin, helps me out of the heap of fabric, and moves onto Grace.
Sprinting and weaving my way through the cluttered consumers, I find myself back at the place of the boys' fight.
Except they're gone, replaced with a lonely looking girl, staring at nothing of importance.
Sighing, I slump down next to her.
"I bet you they'll continue to fight with each other. At least I hope so; it would be very entertaining to see them go at it, especially for an entire school year at Hogwarts," the girl turns to me, staring back with blue eyes that match the streak of blue to the left side of her framed face.
"You were there too? Where were you; I couldn't see you? Who are you?"
Cedric and Oliver yank me away from the girl to go pay, so the only thing I hear is, "Clair Lovegood-".
Ollivander's
Shuttling farther off down a few streets, we stop in front of yet another store front, this one flanked on two sides by sparsely furnished window seats, painted grey like the surrounding brick.
Opening the door, I peer around tall shelves of cluttered wand boxes to gaze questioningly at an unkempt man with a shock of white hair to match a creased face and layers of clothes.
"I will say, I wasn't expecting anyone so soon after him," he remarks, gesturing to the boy and man from Madam Malkin's who are walking further away from the shop outside on the street.
If only we were here sooner! Why won't the boy sit still for heck's sake!
Prying my eyes away from their retreating forms as not to be disrespectful, I step further into the store and outstretch my hand in greeting.
"I'm Alanna Blue and this is Grace Matthews. You probably already know Oliver and Cedric."' Ollivander lightly quivers when he pumps my arm with a firm handshake, focusing on my eyes as he appears to recall a memory.
"Garrick Ollivander. Here, try this wand." Having completed introductions, he scurried off around the corner, shortly thereafter handing Grace and I wands.
Unsure, I watch Grace eagerly wave her wand, rewarded with the sound of a snapped bookshelf ladder.
Following her lead, I slightly flick my wrist. Instead, I get a shattered light.
"No, no. Far from those." Ollivander goes off in search again.
This time, a shower of boxes and a missing step.
Two wands later, Grace has the one.; Unicorn hair, willow, 10 3/8 in. The room had lit up, inferior to her infectious smile. Light had smoothed over the rough patches I hadn't seen until then, softening her tanned skin. Her eyes challenged you.
Thirty five minutes later and everything is continuing to backfire for me.
"Maybe I wasn't destined for any wand. Maybe I'm the witch without magic. None of theses wands are gracing me," I sigh, sinking to the floor in defeat.
"Yes, none of my wands seem to be working. None of mine are working. What about one of his?" Wandering off to a back path, he muses deep in thought. It gets to the point where we can't see him anymore, and I start to think he's abandoned ship too.
"This is my last idea." Startled, I jerk my head toward the ceiling, staring into the pale and glistening eyes of Garrick.
Watching his unsettled eyes strain to hold back quavering tears.
Tears yearning to comfort my face too, I continue to gaze at him as he hurries down the stairs.
"It's the last wand my father ever made. Be careful please," he says as he reverently provides me with the dusty rectangular prism.
No one must have touched this wand in decades; that's how special it is.
Taking in the plain brown words, I mouth the wand description:

Kelpie hair core, fourteen inches long, sycamore

Swiping off a warm winter coat of dust, I pry the top of the box away from the wand inside.
Taking in the brand new smell of yet another wand, something feels different. Looking at the dead hulk of sycamore tree, I feel awakened in a dimension only reachable through this very kelpie hair.
Cradling the wand in my right hand, I raise it like the American flag, slowly and grand. Mustering my courage, I tap on the invisible barrier with the wand tip. I hear it cracking, accepting my pledge to magic, bathing the room in light, my eyes springing open to meet Garrick's.
As the light fades, I turn my attention to Grace, looking at her freshly squeezed smile. This is how she must've felt. This is how they must have felt.
"Two in one day. Just like that. Seven galleons please," Garrick says, taking the responsibility of keeping this show on the road by stepping behind the cash register.
Wrinkling my forehead, I go fishing in my purse, handing over the bounty of seven of the gold pieces.
I don't believe Garrick meant he has only sold two wands by vocalizing  the thought of two of something in one day; in fact, he just sold a wand to the boy from earlier, and if there is a place as big as a school for wand users, I'm going to guess there is no shortage of such a demand for this good. So what does he mean when he says that? Could it be about selling two wands special to him, like my own?
Jumping, I accept the package Garrick has been extending across the counter with an elbow from Grace.
"Thank you," I tell him as we stroll towards the door.
"The one who lived and the one that disappeared. How... changing," he muttered as we neared the door, proceeding to tell us something as the door swung closed.
Cracking open the door, I shout, "What?"
"Watch out for those miracles!" He repeated, gave a slight wave, and turned around before I could read his expression.
"One of my favorite parts of Hogwarts, besides Quidditch, is the pets they let bring with you, and we're not going anywhere else until we stop at Eeylops Owl Emporium." Grinning, Oliver takes off once more, apparently using an infinitely charged battery source.
Groaning, I take off after him, right at Grace's heels.
A chorus of hoots paraded through my ears as my feet galloped across the cobbled streets, determined to reach Oliver's nearing destination.
Feathers floated downwind towards me, swooshing through my crazed hair.
The tinkling sound of cages rocking in the wind harmonized with the distincter hoots, paving the way to a shop brimming to the rafters with owls and supplies.
Eeylops Owl Emporium
Stumbling over a jutting brick, I look straight up into the face of a tawny owl.
"Screech!" It's head cocks, giving it a prying stare.
"The crap," I yell, thunking backwards on my butt.
Chuckling, Cedric bends down over me.
"We're here," he states, extending a hand as he tries to stifle more laughter.
Gripping his wrist, I rise to my feet, ignoring him otherwise as I stalk inside.
Ignoring the blossoming red on my face , I scan the creatures conversing before me.
Spotting a cluster of cages considerably smaller than the others swaying from the ceiling, I weave my way through witches, wizards, and shelves to get to them.
Gazing into the nearest cage of the group, I realize I've seen the features alive before me. This is the same type of owl that delivered my letter.
Wandering further in amongst them, my eyes alight on a particularly tall, quiet elf( it's what species the sign announced them to be) owl.
Our eyes lock with the sound of a key, and as I step forward, she(I just know, okay? I can feel it) unfurls herself from the ball she was curled up in to get closer to me, emitting a soft hoot. Yes, she seems to say, Yes.
"Celeste," I whisper, staring into her beautiful round eyes. Searching the depths, I can tell she is extremely brave and fiercely loyal, strong in heart.
"Celeste is a wonderful name for her. She's uniquely tall for her species, fifteen inches tall. Do you need any help? I can check you out when you're ready," a nice blonde wizard says, a hand on my shoulder.
Blushing deeper, I clear my throat and try to appear strong.
"I really have no idea how to care for her." I stare at my black boots, my hand still hovering in mid air towards Celeste.
"Hey, that's fine. Most first time owners don't know the specifics. I'll walk you through it all." A small grin stretched my lips, as we picked up something in each aisle.
Arms straining to hold everything, I concentrated on the burly figure of a gigantic man. He strongly resembled the person the boy I'd been searching for was traveling with.
Craning my neck, I felt my toe scuff the floor in an attempt to move forward. Next thing I knew the ceiling was my lovely view.
Squinting my eyes closed as to keep out the glare of bright lights and judging people, I cringed when a tentative hand touched my forearm.
"I-I-I am so sorry, I never should have let this happen, let you fall. I should have been a good costumer consultant and taken some of your soon to be purchases. A Hufflepuff does the friendly thing, Jared. GAAAHH! I am terrible. It's my fault, please don't be upset, please stay," the blonde haired wizard who was helping me out rambled.
"No. No, it's fine." *deep breath* "I wasn't looking where I was going. I should've been smart and told you if I couldn't handle it. I was bound to have a bad first impression on the wizarding world anyway." Finally opening my eyes, I started gathering the items I had so carelessly let scatter.
Straightening up with my share of the packages, I refused to look people in the eye as I followed Jared to his place behind the register.
"Sixteen galleons." He burned holes right through the money as he stared solely at it.
"Don't let it ruin you, Jared. Plenty of esteemed wizards make mistakes." I rose my gaze, forcing him to look me in the eyes.
Giving a quirky smile, I bundled up my loot and just left, going right through the doors without watching behind me.
Outside, I found Oliver fingering his wand and stroking a lovely tawny owl.
Taking note of my presence, he whirled around, forgetting the owl and stowing his wand.
"I told Cedric and Grace to go on ahead, since you were taking awfully long." He flashed a devilishly boyish grin.
"We're not done," I said, making the question seem like a statement as I inwardly groaned.
Suddenly, he started sprinting off in a different direction. I heard his words float down on the wind after he left.
"We've only just begun."